


Wild

by Clexarotica



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa, F/F, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 01:54:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6265018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clexarotica/pseuds/Clexarotica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke has a tendency to push Lexa. Clarke also has a tendency to push things off dressers if it means Lexa will go all Commander on her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild

**Author's Note:**

> 1,481 words of smut, basically. Find me on tumblr under the same name, and feel free to let me know what you think/submit prompts.

It’s a miracle the candles haven’t burnt up entirely yet.

It’s convenient, as they emit right enough light for her to make out Clarke’s silhouette at her dresser near the window. _Careful._ Without making a sound, she gets out of bed, one of the furs falling unceremoniously onto the floor, and makes her way over to where the blonde is standing. Clarke must be enthralled by Polis’s skyline, or at least distracted, because she jumps when Lexa grabs her hips from behind and presses her lips against pale skin.

“You’re up.”

“Needed some fresh air.” Clarke murmurs, her right hand covering Lexa’s, “Felt too hot.”

Lexa understands. Clarke is hot. She thinks maybe she should voice this out loud, but decides against it in the end. The Sky girl has rolled her eyes at her compliments a few too many times before, and Lexa doesn’t think a Commander should compliment their subjects, or their ambassadors, too much. Otherwise she’s going to be lectured again on this entire ‘love is weakness’ spiel and she hasn’t got any time for that. Not when that precious time could be spent doing things to Clarke. Lexa looks down Clarke’s spine, making out a couple of marks and scratches scattered across the girl’s back.

“I’m sorry about your back, Clarke.” She says, thinking back of a couple of hours earlier, when she dug her nails into sensitive skin and Clarke in return bit her bottom lip almost too hard, “You have, um, marks.”

“Oh, don’t apologise, _Commander_ ,” Lexa doesn’t have to see the blonde’s face to know she’s being sarcastic, “Maybe I don’t mind.”

Composure. Composure and discipline and resistance. These are what makes a good commander, the books have taught her. Then again, the books were written in a pre-Clarke era, and are therefore wrong. It’s hard to keep any sort of composure when naked Sky girls say certain things.

“You can’t say those things.”

“Why is that?” Clarke slightly gasps when Lexa tightens her grip on her hips, “You don’t like it?”

“It makes me want to fuck you again.”

The blonde is quiet for a few seconds, before turning around to face her. Lexa clenches her jaw, as Clarke leans back against the dresser, pinned between the piece of furniture and Lexa herself. Lexa wonders how come she never quite feels in control when it comes to Clarke. The blonde is looking at her as if she’s studying her, blue eyes darting in between her own. She could cut the tension with a knife, the one that fell from her belt loop earlier when Clarke tore it off her. _Careless._ She looks back at the Sky girl, waiting for her to say something, when Clarke leans in closer and presses her lips against Lexa's. It’s soft. It’s always soft, but a different kind of soft than Lexa is used to. Then there’s teeth clamping down her bottom lip and Clarke tugs, causing the brunette to lean in when the blonde pulls back. _Fuck._ The blonde smirks, chewing on her own lip now.

“Where do you want me then?”

She drives Lexa wild. Sometimes in a good way, sometimes a bad, and very sometimes like _this_.

In a matter of seconds, she’s grabbed the blonde’s hips once again, pushing her back until Clarke’s back hit the dresser. She doesn’t wait for Clarke to pull herself up, instead lifting her up harshly. The blonde pulls her closer, and amidst Lexa pulling her down to the edge of the dresser and Clarke trying to pull Lexa in impossibly closer, some ornaments are swept onto the ground. S _hit._ There’s some heirloom thing gifted to her by the Ice Nation, now shattered into dozens of small pieces across the stone floor.

“Heda, are you alright?”

Clarke looks past her, at the door.

“Yes.” Lexa swallows, not taking her eyes off Clarke, “I’m fine.”

“ _Are_ you?” The blonde whispers, scraping blunt nails down Lexa’s stomach, “Commander?”

“Quiet.”

“What?” Clarke frowns, “Are you trying to tell me what to do now?”

_What a question._

“Yes.”

“Are you very fond of your brooch?”

“Yes. It was gifted to me by -”

Clarke’s eyes divert onto the dresser, and Lexa spots the metal brooch laying near the edge. _No._ She automatically reaches for it, but not fast enough for Clarke to kick it onto the floor with the heel of her foot. Lexa inhales sharply, looking back up at a _very_ smug Clarke.

“Oops.” The blonde whispers.

“You’ll be sorry about that.” Lexa yanks her closer to the edge, her hands firmly gripping Clarke’s waist.

“I hope so.”

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._

She shuts Clarke up the only way she knows to. She grabs the blonde by the back of her neck and kisses her, harder than before. For a couple of moments, they both try to get one over each other, until Lexa pulls the blue-eyed girl closer and lets her wrap her legs around her waist. She immediately holds on, lifts Clarke from the dresser and tries to keep a straight face as the blonde wraps her arms around Lexa’s neck and kisses down her jaw.

“Do that thing you’re so good at again, _heda._ ”

 “I am good at many things.” Lexa murmurs as she walks over to the bed, dropping a naked Clarke on top of the furs once more, “You’ll have to be more specific, Clarke.”

“The thing where you get onto your knees and put that sharp tongue to use.” The blonde leans back on her elbows, “Cause you’re _really_ good at that.”

There is no point in trying to resist the blonde. Lexa doesn’t take her eyes off Clarke as she gets down on her knees, nor when she runs her hands over the smooth skin of the girl’s thighs. Blue eyes follow her every move as she kisses up the very same path her fingers have trailed, halting at the apex of the Sky girl’s legs.

The room is quiet apart from Clarke’s ragged breathing and her own heartbeat thudding loudly in her chest. Lexa runs her tongue in between slick folds, and almost immediately she’s yanked closer, feeling Clarke’s fingers treading in her hair. She gasps, sucks down on the other girl’s clit as the blonde bucks unashamedly into her mouth. Desperate for some sort of control, Lexa wraps an arm around Clarke’s thigh, keeping her down onto the bed as she runs the flat of her tongue over the smaller girl’s throbbing core.

“More.” Clarke whimpers.

“No.”

“Mou, niron. Beja.”

She can’t deny Clarke anything, especially when she speaks her language. Lexa suspects Clarke knows this. The sigh leaving the blonde’s lips as she runs her fingers up and down hot wetness, speaks volumes. Her scalp burns where Clarke yanks her hair tighter when she pushes inside of her. Lexa twists her fingers, pushes back and forth while suckling down onto the blonde’s clit. She’s given up holding Clarke down by now, instead reaching up to squeeze the blue-eyed girl’s breast. Clarke gasps when she does, even more so as she keeps fingering her.

“Lexa.”

Clarke does this, she’s learnt. There’s always a point where sassy remarks and harmless flirtations and trigedasleng attempts make place for Clarke mumbling her name.

It’s her favourite.

There are more mumbles, and words Lexa doesn’t quite understand. She does understand the way Clarke clenches around her fingers and tenses beneath her tongue. This time, she doesn’t try to keep the blonde down when she lifts her hips from the bed. After a few more moments, Clarke releases her hold on Lexa’s hair. Green eyes find blue as she presses her lips against the hot skin of the Sky girl’s thighs gently.

When she gets up from the floor, Clarke’s rolling over on the bed, patting the spot next to her. Lexa gets into bed without a word, grabbing one of the sheets and pulling it over her and Clarke. Her eyelids feel heavy, her skin feels slightly hot and the way her heart is beating in her ears is deafening, but Clarke doesn’t seem to notice any of that.

“Do Commanders cuddle?”

“Does Skaikru?”

There’s a sigh.

A sigh, and then shifting beneath sheets, and then Clarke’s curled up against her, one leg draped over Lexa’s. The blonde feels wet and hot against her thigh, which doesn’t help the deafening sound in her head, at all. She lays still until Clarke tentatively drapes an arm over her stomach too. Lexa tries not to tense, tries not to breathe too loudly, tries to wrap an arm around the blonde without showing weakness. _Love is weakness._

“Night, Lexa.”

“Goodnight, Clarke.” Lexa whispers.

Outside the tower, there’s yelling. Lexa tries to make out what’s happening for a few moments, before tuning out the noise and focussing on Clarke finally falling asleep. It’s peaceful, and nice, and not at all wild.


End file.
